


of ballroom dances and pretty princes

by periwinklepandas



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Prince Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Prince GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), dreamnotfound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28337718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/periwinklepandas/pseuds/periwinklepandas
Summary: Clay is sick and tired of royal balls, and he just wants to leave.That is, until he meets a certain brown-haired prince. (reposted from my (taken down) oneshots book)
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 225





	of ballroom dances and pretty princes

**Author's Note:**

> original notes:// fun fact : I listen to the Hamilton soundtrack for the first time while writing this and god is it a bop-  
> anyways take some dnf royal au (double update today yay!)  
> I've actually been working on this for a few days now, I just didn't have to motivation to finish it until I had to go to a wedding today (dw, it was socially distanced) and was so bored I finished the entire thing.(i did 0 research on this)  
> *shuffles legend au and requests under my desk*  
> also this is the most swears I've ever put into a fic I think.  
> anyways this is the opposite of a slow burn so  
> enjoy :)  
> word count : 1229

Elegant music resonated through the lavishly adorned ballroom of the Kingdom of Cambertheia, the sound of nobles conversing and staff bustling ringing through the air.

Today was not a normal occasion, you see, for today was the sixteenth birthday of the Crown prince of Cambertheia---- Prince Clay, firstborn heir to the throne. Nobles and royals from neighboring countries had all been invited and accepted graciously---- Cambertheia was known for their extravagant celebrations and feasts, where the wine flowed generously and the platters of food were plentiful. The ballroom itself was richly decorated--- detailed banners in the royal colors (green and gold) hung from the walls, the magnificent crystal chandeliers cast a dazzling glow across the establishment, and the ornate windows and floors were polished to perfect sparkle, the moon shining brightly onto the palace gardens outside.

And honestly? Clay hated it. He knew the principal focus of these celebrations wasn't his birthday anyways. It was all an excuse to strengthen ties with other kingdoms, to establish political allies and connections.

And it was exhausting.

It was exhausting making polite, polished, eloquent talk with the many nobles who came from far and wide, exhausting dancing around sensitive topics in conversation, everything hidden behind false facades of courtesy and politeness. Sometimes all Clay longed for was to have a real, legitimate, honest, conversation with someone, one without the other saying "Your Highness" and "Prince Clay" every other sentence, showering him with fanciful compliments in attempts to get on his good side, trying to get some form of reward from it. He was sick of only talking to stuck-up royals who deemed themselves superior and better than everyone else.

An announcement yanks him out of his thoughts, and Clay comes back to reality, sitting up straight (he's not though) in his throne, pushing his sandy blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Arriving---Prince George of the Alynthi Empire."

Ugh- this was probably just some other arrogant prince who had a superiority complex problem, coming to brag about the riches he possessed. Clay groaned, slumping down in his seat.

"Fix your posture," His mother lectured. "You will never bring honor and glory to our kingdom like this." Clay rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that, young man- watch your attitude."

Clay turns his gaze to the prince and takes a sip of his wine. The prince is cute, he'll give him that.

Sparkling emerald eyes meet deep brown ones, and a rosy tinge appears on Clay's cheek.

Fuck, the prince was handsome.

Clay decides to go talk to this "George". Some socializing wouldn't be that hard, wouldn't it? Plus, he thought his mother might murder him if he didn't actually talk to anyone soon.

(It was totally not because he thought the prince was cute.)

\------------------------------------------

"Prince George of Alynthi."

"Prince Clay of Cambertheia."

"The host, eh?"

"Yep, that's me." Clay takes a deep breath, leaning against the wall. This was actually going better than he'd thought it would. Prince George was less of an asshole than he's assumed at least.

"Hello? You there?" Clay blinked. George was waving a hand in front of him. "You're not dead, right?"

Clay couldn't help but burst into laughter. "No, not as far as I know."

God, he had only known George for five minutes, yet it felt like they had known each other for years. You ever meet someone and something just clicks between the two of you, and it's like you two are old friends even though you've only just met?

Yeah, that was the case with George. 

As the two of them bantered into the night, laughing and joking, Clay realizes that this is the most  _ honest _ , the most real conversation he's had with anyone on years. Talking with George wasn't suffocating or fake like with everyone else, he didn't have to watch his every word.

He could just be himself.

"You know, I'm really glad I met you here tonight." Clay says. "It's really nice talking to you." 

"Really?" George smiles, a faint blush forming on his face.

"Y-yeah, really." Clay stutters, feeling his own cheeks heat up.

George smiles again, and Clay's heart skips a beat. 

God- he's so cute. The brunette's eyes sparkle, reflecting the light of the chandeliers twinkling above them.

Fuck, Clay kind of wanted to kiss him.

Soft music floated through the air of the ballroom.

"Wanna dance?" Clay smirked, holding out a hand to George.

"I- I don't think that's the norm-" The brown-eyed boy stammered, taking Clay's hand anyways.

"Oh, fuck the rules." Clay tugs on George's hand and leads him into a passionate waltz.

The music flowed on, resonating throughout the ballroom as the pair continued to waltz, twirling through the ballroom to the sound of the music. Clay feels his hands on George's waist, and a furious blush appears on his complexion, as they continue their dance. Sparking emerald eyes meet warm brown ones, and both of them are hyperaware of the physical contact right now, hyperaware of their hands on each other's waists and shoulders, aware of the intamacy of the dance.

Clay realizes how close their faces are right now, and it's as if time slows to a stop. His heart is beating  _ fast _ , adrenaline and passion fueling the dance he's in with the prince. Everything around them is blurred, it's as if it's just the two of them right now. His face is painted with a vivid blush, everything around him is warm, flushed with heat. He's duly aware of  _ how close they are right now _ , aware of the proximity, and he's aware that he's staring into George's eyes, those deep brown eyes that are filled with warmth. 

The music is slowing to a stop, and Clay twirls them into a dark, private corner, where they're truly alone, just the two of them, staring at each other, both their faces a bright scarlet. 

Nethier of them say anything, because there are no words to be said between them. 

_ God I wanna kiss him so-fucking-much. _

_ Now or never. _

Clay can feel, can hear his heart pounding, staring into the other's eyes.

But before he can do anything, George does the last thing he expected the other to do.

The brown-haired prince leans forward and pulls him into a kiss.

Clay is taken by sheer surprise at first as their lips meet but he melts into it, embracing the kiss like he had done this a thousand times before. 

It was everything at once.

It seemed to last forever, yet it was far too short. 

Clay could do this forever.

It was every emotion mixed into a symphony of feelings : satisfaction, hunger, surprise, bliss, yearning.

It was an explosion of colours, red and pink and purple, all swirling into a vortex of hues.

It was a moment like something precious, something beautiful, something so painstakingly honest, just a mix of emotions swirling together to create a split second, one that felt like an eternity.

It was a symphony of music, reaching crescendos, hitting high notes, a melody of pure bliss.

After what seems like an eternity but was still not enough, the two nobles pull apart from their lip-locked exchange, their faces burning with scarlet. 

"Oh my god." Clay exhales.

"So we just did that, didn't we." George grins, a smile on his face.

"Yep."

Clay pulls him in for another kiss, and this time, there's no hesitation.


End file.
